


Teamwork

by JulyStorms



Series: Daybreak [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6961003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulyStorms/pseuds/JulyStorms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I have to sit through another half-hour of <em>oh my perfect little peach of a son</em> I am going to be sick on her Prada.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teamwork

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Harblkun on Tumblr for the three-sentence meme. This is obviously not three sentences but hey.

The immaculate white 2002 Honda Odyssey sat, as it always did, perfectly centered in the parking spot at the end of the first row. Sully glared at it as they passed it and parked three rows away.

“Can I—?”

Virion held up a hand. “Dearest, you know that would not be civil of you.”

“I swear,” she grumbled, yanking open her door and refusing to give the vehicle a second glance, a little afraid that it might have started sporting lacy white curtains in the back window, “that if I have to sit through another half-hour of  _oh my perfect little peach of a son_  I am going to be sick on her Prada.”

“Cherche has never worn Prada in her life.”

“Whatever Wal-Mart brand knock-off she wears, then.”

Virion sighed.

“You know you find her prattling as irritating as I do,” Sully said, falling into step with him. “Last week it was an hour of discussion about her ‘famous’ brownies and the week before that it was all about Geromeykins’s big football victory, and before _that_ —God, I don’t know, but I doubt it had anything to do with bettering the education or learning environment for our  _children_.”

“Not that you’re feeling bitter or anything.”

Sully crossed her arms over her chest. “Kjelle got another C,” she admitted, “and I just know Cherche will be bragging about how well her son did on the same test. It’s like I can sense it.”

“You’re quite intelligent, but you’re no psychic.”

“Aren’t I? I can predict things.”

“Oh?” 

She gave him a sly look, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I predict that something good might happen if we manage to leave this meeting before the subject turns to the perfect curtains to use in the springtime.”

“Something good for whom?”

She flicked his ear with a finger and grinned. “Might be you. I don’t know. I’m no psychic.”

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze just as they reached the doors. “I shall create a diversion by remembering we left the oven on. Then you may scold me only for me to ask if you remembered to unplug the  _iron_ …”

She laughed and held open the door for him. “Which of course I left on. Can’t believe I forgot such an important step of looking impeccable.”

“It’s difficult to look impeccable if your house burns down,” he added, practically waltzing in ahead of her, “so of course we must return to save it from certain destruction.”


End file.
